Paul Sills.
(Forgive the less-than-awesome photo chop-job above. I was in a hurry, and didn't want to include the Faces Of The Innocent from a group shot.)
Paul Sills, one of the founders of The Second City in Chicago and son of Viola Spolin, Grand Dame of American Improvisation, died on Monday from pneumonia complications.
My friend Kevin and I took one of Paul's summer workshops at his Door County, WI, home in 1999. That was right in the thick of my obsession with all things improv, and it was one of the strangest and coolest weeks of my life.
Paul was not the gentlest of teachers, but he got things out of you. I remember that week as being very trying, very difficult and intense, but ultimately very rewarding.
I kept a journal of the entire week, chock full of Sillsian quotes.
"I talk a lot about the Tao. Viola would crap if she heard me."
"When in real trouble, make a sandwich."
"You can't end a scene by looking at me; you have to bring it to a climax and go. Pull out a gun and shoot her. Pull off her clothes and f___ her. Don't look at me."
"This is the one time in your life you'll be playing in this scene with this person."
"Who's first? I often yell at the first group."
After the final workshop on the final day:
Rich: "So, do you know my name?"
Paul: "No, I don't know your name. But I know you're with him." (points at Kevin)
The last thing he said to the audience after our (not-so-great) workshop performance:
"All right, that was what it was. That's enough of that. Let's have a party."
Beautiful. It was not an easy time, and Paul was not easy to please. But he knew what the hell he was talking about.
Read about the workshop here, and more about Paul Sills and his legacy here. Also, if you have any interest at all in the history of the Second City and how improv as a performance art got its start, track down and read Something Wonderful Right Away by Jeffrey Sweet. Awesome, and packed to the gills with Sills.
Paul Sills, one of the founders of The Second City in Chicago and son of Viola Spolin, Grand Dame of American Improvisation, died on Monday from pneumonia complications.
My friend Kevin and I took one of Paul's summer workshops at his Door County, WI, home in 1999. That was right in the thick of my obsession with all things improv, and it was one of the strangest and coolest weeks of my life.
Paul was not the gentlest of teachers, but he got things out of you. I remember that week as being very trying, very difficult and intense, but ultimately very rewarding.
I kept a journal of the entire week, chock full of Sillsian quotes.
"I talk a lot about the Tao. Viola would crap if she heard me."
"When in real trouble, make a sandwich."
"You can't end a scene by looking at me; you have to bring it to a climax and go. Pull out a gun and shoot her. Pull off her clothes and f___ her. Don't look at me."
"This is the one time in your life you'll be playing in this scene with this person."
"Who's first? I often yell at the first group."
After the final workshop on the final day:
Rich: "So, do you know my name?"
Paul: "No, I don't know your name. But I know you're with him." (points at Kevin)
The last thing he said to the audience after our (not-so-great) workshop performance:
"All right, that was what it was. That's enough of that. Let's have a party."
Beautiful. It was not an easy time, and Paul was not easy to please. But he knew what the hell he was talking about.
Read about the workshop here, and more about Paul Sills and his legacy here. Also, if you have any interest at all in the history of the Second City and how improv as a performance art got its start, track down and read Something Wonderful Right Away by Jeffrey Sweet. Awesome, and packed to the gills with Sills.
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